Owner And Pet Quotes

Owners of dogs will have noticed that, if you provide them with food and water and shelter and affection, they will think you are god. Whereas owners of cats are compelled to realize that, if you provide them with food and water and shelter and affection, they draw the conclusion that they are gods.

Never mind, said Hachiko each day. Here I wait, for my friend who’s late. I will stay, just to walk beside you for one more day.

Hmm…now that I think about it, housecats are often coddled and petted. You don’t pet me nearly enough. You must be a lax owner. How selfish of you to deprive your cat of attention.

I’ll never go hungry, because I’m a pet owner and a meat eater. I used to own broccoli, but taking it for a walk in the park didn’t work out so well. 


If you are a dog and your owner suggests that you wear a sweater, suggest that he wear a tail.

It has always been my belief that a pet owner has a special responsibility to do everything that can be done to make the pet's life as fulfilling and peaceful as possible.

Walter had never liked cats. They'd seemed to him the sociopaths of the pet world, a species domesticated as an evil necessary for the control of rodents and subsequently fetishized the way unhappy countries fetishize their militaries, saluting the uniforms of killers as cat owners stroke their animals' lovely fur and forgive their claws and fangs. He'd never seen anything in a cat's face but simpering incuriosity and self-interest; you only had to tease one with a mouse-toy to see where it's true heart lay...cats were all about using people

Who the hell needs this many dogs anyway?” “What’s wrong with being a pet owner?” Cameron asked. “Yeah, you pronounced ‘hoarder’ wrong.

Any man with money to make the purchase may become a dog's owner. But no man --spend he ever so much coin and food and tact in the effort-- may become a dog's Master without consent of the dog. Do you get the difference? And he whom a dog once unreservedly accepts as Master is forever that dog's God.

It made me shiver. And I about made up my mind to pray, and see if I couldn't try to quit being the kind of a boy I was and be better. So I kneeled down. But the words wouldn't come. Why wouldn't they? It warn't no use to try and hide it from Him. Nor from ME, neither. I knowed very well why they wouldn't come. It was because my heart warn't right; it was because I warn't square; it was because I was playing double. I was letting ON to give up sin, but away inside of me I was holding on to the biggest one of all. I was trying to make my mouth SAY I would do the right thing and the clean thing, and go and write to that nigger's owner and tell where he was; but deep down in me I knowed it was a lie, and He knowed it. You can't pray a lie--I found that out. So I was full of trouble, full as I could be; and didn't know what to do. At last I had an idea; and I says, I'll go and write the letter--and then see if I can pray. Why, it was astonishing, the way I felt as light as a feather right straight off, and my troubles all gone. So I got a piece of paper and a pencil, all glad and excited, and set down and wrote: Miss Watson, your runaway nigger Jim is down here two mile below Pikesville, and Mr. Phelps has got him and he will give him up for the reward if you send. HUCK FINN. I felt good and all washed clean of sin for the first time I had ever felt so in my life, and I knowed I could pray now. But I didn't do it straight off, but laid the paper down and set there thinking--thinking how good it was all this happened so, and how near I come to being lost and going to hell. And went on thinking. And got to thinking over our trip down the river; and I see Jim before me all the time: in the day and in the night-time, sometimes moonlight, sometimes storms, and we a-floating along, talking and singing and laughing. But somehow I couldn't seem to strike no places to harden me against him, but only the other kind. I'd see him standing my watch on top of his'n, 'stead of calling me, so I could go on sleeping; and see him how glad he was when I come back out of the fog; and when I come to him again in the swamp, up there where the feud was; and such-like times; and would always call me honey, and pet me and do everything he could think of for me, and how good he always was; and at last I struck the time I saved him by telling the men we had small-pox aboard, and he was so grateful, and said I was the best friend old Jim ever had in the world, and the ONLY one he's got now; and then I happened to look around and see that paper. It was a close place. I took it up, and held it in my hand. I was a-trembling, because I'd got to decide, forever, betwixt two things, and I knowed it. I studied a minute, sort of holding my breath, and then says to myself: "All right, then, I'll GO to hell"--and tore it up.

The man behind the check-in counter gives the impression that he has just axe-murdered the motel's owner (and family, and family pet) and is going through these procedures of hostelry so as not to arouse suspicion.

Like the cat who finds her way back home over a thousand miles, like the dog who waits for his master to arrive on the train that never comes, like the one who keeps a vigil at her master’s grave until she too can cross the bridge, some people and their pets are woven together by threads of life and they cannot, and will not, for long be separated.

What about the animals?” Ty asked. “Who the hell needs this many dogs anyway?” “What’s wrong with being a pet owner?” Cameron asked. “Yeah, you pronounced ‘hoarder’ wrong.

People and their pets connect via shared brain structures that predate the development of the human frontal cortex with its apparatus of language and rationality. Animals and humans interact from their respective limbic systems, the brain’s emotional parts. Unlike people, animals are acutely sensitive to messages from the limbic brain—both their own and that of their owners.

Becca watched New Kid work the cutlery. “Bet you wish you’d given up your seat now, huh?” “Oh.” Quinn settled back on the bench and gave him a more appraising look. “This is that guy.” He looked thrown for a second. “That guy?” Quinn nodded. “Pet store hero, ex-police-dog owner, seat stealer.” Trust her best friend to be absolutely direct. Becca glanced away and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I might have mentioned you.

Some lovers break up with each other the first time they have a big argument; some parents do as little for their children as they can get away with; some pet owners ignore their pets whenever they become inconvenient. In all of those cases, the people are unwilling to make an effort. Having a real relationship, whether with a lover or a child or a pet, requires that you be willing to balance the other party’s wants and needs with your own.

He regarded Huginn as only slightly more dangerous than most pets, in that he understood why people had pets but harbored the paranoia they would one day eat their owners. True, it kept Eliot from even having a pet larger than his fist, but it also kept him from being kibble.

Dog owners who stare into their pet’s eyes experience a rapid increase in oxytocin—a neuropeptide involved in attachment and bonding. Exchanging gazes full of empathy and trust, we enjoy a special relationship with the dog.42

I don’t trust white people like you do. I obviously don’t think they are all murderers, but I think they are all racist.” “All?” I say, eyebrows raised. “It sounds wild, I know, but racism is a spectrum and they all participate in it in some way. They don’t all have white hoods or call us mean things; I know that. But racism isn’t just about that—it’s not about being nice or mean. Or good versus bad. It’s bigger than that. We’re all in this bubble being affected by the past. The moment they decided they got to be white and have all the power and we got to be Black and be at the bottom, everything changed. If we can’t talk about it honestly, and I mean really talk about it, then what’s the point? I read some Malcom X last year, and I agree with him. Some might even treat you good, like an owner might treat a pet.” “That’s wild,” I say. “Yeah, it is. I think anyone can be nice, but it’s not about being nice. You can’t escape a history like that and not be affected. Us Blacks, we start hating ourselves, and them whites start thinking they’re all better than us. Even if they aren’t thinking it constantly, it’s in there somewhere.

The least they could do would be to stuff those toys with white meat. But could I take this complaint to the pet-toymakers? Stop worrying about what the owners think and pay some attention to your real clients. Your real clients are folk like me.

Some people may find bonding with pets easier than with humans because animals are largely indifferent to their owners’ material possessions, social status, well-being, and interpersonal skills.

The professor was looking at Theodosia; he knew with resigned amusement that he was about to become the owner of the little dog. She wasn’t going to ask, but the expression on her face was eloquent.

She smiled thoughtfully. “I think Jackson was like a lost puppy. He needed purpose, someone to believe in him and love him despite his bullshit. But he didn’t have that, so he just went around humping everyone’s leg and peeing everywhere. Then you came along and he thought he found that owner that would give him that purpose—something that would make him feel needed—but you chose the fancy pet store puppy instead, so he went back to peeing on everything and destroying all the furniture.” “Um, Whit...is there a point to this?” “We all need someone to believe in us. It helps us see our full potential. You were that someone to believe in him. I think he’ll be a new man because of it.” “So you’re saying I rescued a lost puppy, and now he’ll become a topnotch show dog because I’m just so amazing?” “Exactly.” “You have such an eloquent way with words.” “No shit, right?” “Precisely.” -Emma and Whitney

[My wife] called, "Pochi, Pochi, your supper's ready," and laughed as she said, "You may have a personality disorder.” A disgusting thought came to mind, “They say that the dog comes to resemble its owner.

…if I become an admitted pet owner, then I have to pay not only a several hundred dollar deposit to the apartment complex, but I’m pretty sure that they also reserve the right to harvest some of my bodily organs…

Humans have always exalted dreams. Pindar of Thebes, the Greek lyric poet, suggested that the soul is more active while dreaming than while awake. He believed that during a dream, the awakened soul may see the future, “an award of joy or sorrow drawing near.” So it’s no wonder that humans were quick to reserve dreams for people alone; researchers for many years claimed dreams were a property of “higher” minds. But any pet owner who has heard her dog woof or seen his cat twitch during sleep knows that is not true. MIT researchers now know not only that rats dream, but what they dream about. Neurons in the brain fire in distinctive patterns while a rat in a maze performs particular tasks. The researchers repeatedly saw the exact same patterns reproduced while the rats slept—so clearly that they could tell what point in the maze the rat was dreaming about, and whether the animal was running or walking in the dream. The rats’ dreams took place in an area of the brain known to be involved with memory, further supporting a notion that one function of dreams is to help an animal remember what it has learned.

Daddy leaned toward us and told us rather conspiratorially that this box held our newest pet. This is the same man who once brought home a baby bobcat, let it loose in the house, and forgot to mention it because he “didn’t think it was important,” so for him to be excited I assumed the box had to contain something truly amazing, like a two-headed lizard, or a baby chupacabra. He opened the box and whispered excitedly, “Come out and meet your new owners, Pickle.

It was all very puzzling—both that Jill could smell still more like Jill… and that Dorcas should wish to smell like Jill when she already smelled like herself… and that Jubal would say that Dorcas smelled like a cat when she did not. There was a cat who lived on the place (not as a pet, but as co-owner); on rare occasions it came to the house and deigned to accept a handout. The cat and Mike had grokked each other at once, and Mike had found its carniverous thoughts most pleasing and quite Martian. He had discovered, too, that the cat's name (Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche) was not the cat's name at all, but he had not told anyone this because he could not pronounce the cat's real name; he could only hear it in its head. The cat did not smell like Dorcas.

Animals are sacred beings and deserve our respect, love and care. I admire the fact that your family works with dogs. They are often mirrors that reflect the areas we humans still need to work on. So many pet owners think that when they have an out of control dog, it's the dog's fault, when really the dog is reflecting back to the owner something about them that is out of alignment.

She's a pit bull," I told them, making sure to say it as matterof-factly as I could. But no matter how I said the words, the parents always took the children by the hand and led them away. People hear about pit bulls, but often they have no idea what they really are-that they used to be considered nanny dogs, trusted members of the family. Or that even when they do have issues, it's not with people but with other dogs. The breed may attract a higher number of dubious owners, but the breed itself should be judged on its own.

The small family living unit lacks space, Earth, other animals, seasons, natural temperatures, and so on. The pet is either sterilized or sexually isolated, extremely limited in his exercise, deprived of almost all other animal contact, and fed with artificial foods. This is the material process which lies behind the truism the pets come to resemble their masters or mistresses. They are creatures of their owners way of life.

The alcohol and attention bewitched her. Within half an hour, she was so charmed and spirited that she’d begun to tell stories from her childhood: how her older brother Bill had run away to join the navy and sent her a pet monkey from Madagascar, which had arrived precisely on her birthday, except dead. How a rooster had had it in for her and chased her all the way down to the Preston bridge on her way to fourth grade. (Her father later paid the owner seventy-five cents for the pleasure of wringing its neck. They had it for Sunday dinner and it was tough as shoe leather.)

As I said in my last book, birds are mean. They're the only pet that, when they escape, the owners are relieved. You can tell a species is evil by doing this simple math. If my blond lab Molly was the size of T-Rex, that would just mean more kibble, more work for the gardener in the backyard, and a harder time moving her to my wife's side of the bed at night. If birds were the size of a T-Rex, the streets would be littered with human remains.

The needs and companionship of a bird provide a reason to get up in the morning. The value of this cannot be overestimated for older bird owners and single people who are on their own. Birds provide all the benefits of the humananimal bond, including lower blood pressure and reduced levels of stress.

AFEW YEARS AGO the city council of Monza, Italy, barred pet owners from keeping goldfish in curved goldfish bowls. The measure’s sponsor explained the measure in part by saying that it is cruel to keep a fish in a bowl with curved sides because, gazing out, the fish would have a distorted view of reality.

annoyance how the vet’s policy of calling out a pet’s name rather than that of their owner caused its usual flurry of sniggers.

the dog-owners habitually transferred to the lower-level elevators, encouraging their pets to use them as lavatories. This rivalry between the dog-owners and the parents of small children had in a sense already polarized the building. Between the upper and lower floors the central mass of apartments—roughly from the 10th floor to the 30th—formed a buffer state.

By accepting our petting, cats are doing more than enjoying themselves: in their minds, they are almost certainly engaging in a social ritual that is reinforcing the bond with their owner.

The reality is that if we took the legally sanctioned practices from the animal farming industries and then applied them to other situations, we would think those practices horrendous. For example, if dog owners were cutting off their pets' tails and chopping their teeth out, we would condemn that as being horrific animal abuse. But we do it to pigs and call it high welfare. If someone was killing puppies by thumping their heads against a wall or dislocating their necks, we would call that evil, yet that happens to animals such as piglets and chickens and we call it humane. But the experience is the same for the individual animal, regardless of what species they are.

When you got Ama I thought maybe you were going to become one of those bachelor-pet-owner types. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I think Chloe will be good for you!” Shiloh winked and made a heart shape with her fingers. I lay in Noctus’s arms, deeply traumatized by the conversation. She thought Noctus was going to become an old cat lady? Noctus. The elf king?! Noctus took advantage of my shock to ease me onto my back so he cradled me like a baby.

Wiggly, that's the word most often used by pit bull owners to describe their dogs. Others are loyal, compassionate, devoted, affectionate, couch potato, courageous, lapdog, snugglepuss, heroic, kissy-faced, lovebug, bed hog, pansy, soul mate, family.

All dogs are predators, but over thousands of generations, we’ve created sporting breeds to be exceptionally focused predators. All dogs like to dig and chase small prey, but terriers are superdriven to dig and find rodents. All dogs love to run, but greyhounds can run up to forty miles an hour, and huskies can run for hours and hours on end. All dogs have the natural ability to fight or wrestle with one another, but the bully breeds have been genetically engineered to fight to the death. The more pure the bloodline, the more that genetic “boost” will probably play a part in your dog’s behavior. That’s why some owners claim that their “mutts” make mellower pets, because, they theorize, their DNA has been somewhat diluted, and their breed-related drives diffused as a result.

It is done, then," Okaios said. "I supposed this was better than the alternative." The sadness in his voice reminded Mera of an owner who has lost his prize pet. "No," she said. "A better alternative would have been no one dying." "Then how would they learn?" Okaios asked.

Most cat owners nowadays expect their cat to live wherever the owners choose. Perhaps not fully understanding the cat’s need to form an attachment to its physical environment, owners assume that it is enough to provide food, shelter, and human company, and that if they do, the cat will have no reason not to stay put. In reality, many cats adopt a second “owner,” and sometimes migrate permanently.22

AFB Vice President Pat Moeller, myself, and a few other staff members are seated around an oval conference table. Moeller is middle-aged, likable, and plain-spoken. He has a small mouth with naturally deep red lips and a pronounced Cupid’s bow, but it would be inaccurate to say he has a feminine appearance. Moeller once consulted for NASA, and he has that look. The fundamental challenge of the pet-food professional, Moeller is saying, is to balance the wants and needs of pets with those of their owners. The two are often at odds.

He flapped and hopped until he was up in the air and, frantically looking around, eyed the dining room table again and headed its way. This time he stuck his feet out in front of him and held them open like hands trying to grab solid ground. But it didn’t help. He hit the table, slid on his rear all the way across, and crashed on the floor again. Again I dissolved in laughter and again Wesley stared stonily at the wall. I stopped laughing abruptly when I realized that Wesley was embarrassed. Learning to fly is physically and emotionally very difficult, and human owl mothers should not laugh at their babies. From then on I tried my hardest to keep a straight face. Most pet owners know that animals can read emotions such as anger, approval, affection, and acceptance. But it had never occurred to me that perhaps an animal could feel ridiculed. From that point forward, no one in Wendy’s house was allowed to laugh at Wesley, at least not in front of him, while he was learning to fly. Sometimes we had to run into the bathroom, shut the door, and burst out laughing.

But before you call PETA, let me explain. I think all dogs should be off leashes, biting people! That's what they want to be doing, running in packs like the wild canines I saw in Bucharest that seem so happy to attack you, snarling and yapping when you get out of a cab. Dogs don't want to be home with their owners stuck in some sort of sick S&M relationship, sentenced to a lifetime of human caresses! How would you like to take a shit with someone following you around, waiting to pick it up with a plastic newspaper bag? Talk about humiliating! Also, I hate to tell you this, but can't you see? Your cat hates you

One of the more disturbing examples of “credential fraud” is that of Henrietta Goldacre, who received a diploma from the American Association of Nutritional Consultants (AANC) in 2004. Although she might sound plenty qualified to steer you toward a healthier diet, you’d want to think twice before enlisting her services. Not only did Henrietta earn her certification while dead; she was also a cat. Her owner, UK journalist and bad-science buster Ben Goldacre, applied for AANC membership on behalf of his deceased pet while investigating phony credentials—and soon found that the AANC would gladly dole out certificates to applicants of any species or mortality status, as long as they had $60 and a valid mailing address.

None were particularly interesting, although I got a kick out of a note from the Philadelphia Zoo suggesting that since the tiger was not entirely reliable around humans, perhaps Mr. Willing would consider a leopard for his painting instead. It had been a pet until the demise (natural) of its owner and would, if not firmly admonished, climb into a person's lap, purring, and drool copiously. I pulled a sheet of scrap paper (the Stars spent a lot of time sending all-school e-mails about recycling) out of my bag and made a note on the blank side: "Leopard in The Lady in DeNile?" It wasn't my favorite, Cleopatra Awaiting the Return of Anthony. It was a little OTT, loaded with gold and snake imagery and, of course, the leopard. Diana hadn't liked the painting,either, apparently; she was the one who'd given it the Lady in DeNile nickname.I wondered if the leopard had drooled on her. None of the papers were personal, but they were Edward's and some were special, if you knew about his life. There was a bill from the Hotel Ritz in Paris in April 1890, and one from Cartier two months later for a pair of Tahitian pearl drop earrings. Diana was wearing them in my favorite photograph of the two of them: happy and visibly tanned, even in black and white, holding lobsters on a beach in Maine. "I insisted we let them go," Diana wrote in a letter to her niece. "Edward had a snit.He wanted a lobster dinner, but I could not countenance eating a fellow model.

My family’s tradition of ‘matching-matching’ names is so obsessive, it’s against the order of nature. When my uncles Anil and Anant married, they took advantage of a heinous custom in Marathi weddings. After the pheras, a dish of uncooked rice is placed before the newlyweds, and whatever name the husband chooses to write in the rice becomes the new name of his wife. Because marriage in our culture is akin to buying a puppy at a pet shop and saying, ‘I am your new owner, and I shall call you Flu y.’ So Anil Adarkar brought home Asha Adarkar (née Kiran), and Anant Adarkar brought home Anita Adarkar (née Geeta). And to complete this picture of divine perfection they named their children Aniket, and Ashwini and Ashleysha, respectively.

We cannot attempt to tame others' demons until we have conquered and tamed our own. When I was a little girl I tamed several vicious guard dogs that were left to rot in cages. Their owners so afraid of them, they'd feed the dogs from a pail at the end of a long stick! I tamed several such dogs, turned them into playful, loving pets. I never imposed myself, I would only sit quietly near their cages day after day, for months, perhaps whispering; taming my own fear and my own impatience while holding space for them in my presence. They eventually turned into playful puppies! What kind of energy is that? It's an energy which has mastered its own demons. People go around trying to change others, but they can't even change themselves. Master your own monsters first.

What do you think of this stuff?’ he asked. I looked at the bottle and discovered that it contained a miracle udder liniment, guaranteed to reduce pain and swelling. ‘I’ve seen the ad in the Dairy Exporter, but that’s about it,’ I said. ‘Does it work?’ Personally I doubted that it would, since it’s a bit of a stretch to ask something you rub on the skin to kill the bacteria lurking in the tissues ten centimetres down, but I had learnt through bitter experience that belittling someone’s pet alternative treatment is almost as offensive as telling them their kid looks funny. (My all-time low was attending a cat after-hours wearing a T-shirt which read Homeopathy, making damn-all difference since 1796, and then learning that the cat’s owner was a certified homeopath.)

I don’t trust white people like you do. I obviously don’t think they are all murderers, but I think they are all racist.” “All?” I say, eyebrows raised. “It sounds wild, I know, but racism is a spectrum and they all participate in it in some way. They don’t all have white hoods or call us mean things; I know that. But racism isn’t just about that—it’s not about being nice or mean. Or good versus bad. It’s bigger than that. We’re all in this bubble being affected by the past. The moment they decided they got to be white and have all the power and we got to be Black and be at the bottom, everything changed. If we can’t talk about it honestly, and I mean really talk about it, then what’s the point? I read some Malcom X last year, and I agree with him. Some might even treat you good, like an owner might treat a pet.

the following prayer by Dr. Jane Goodall, who was named a UN Messenger of Peace for her continued world efforts, she seems to touch on most aspects of world conflict as we know them today and as they pertain to all living things. Prayer for World Peace We pray to the great Spiritual Power in which we live and move and have our being. We pray that we may at all times keep our minds open to new ideas and shun dogma; that we may grow in our understanding of the nature of all living beings and our connectedness with the natural world; that we may become ever more filled with generosity of spirit and true compassion and love for all life; that we may strive to heal the hurts that we have inflicted on nature and control our greed for material things, knowing that our actions are harming our natural world and the future of our children; that we may value each and every human being for who he is, for who she is, reaching to the spirit that is within,knowing the power of each individual to change the world. We pray for social justice, for the alleviation of the crippling poverty that condemns millions of people around the world to lives of misery—hungry, sick, and utterly without hope. We pray for the children who are starving,who are condemned to homelessness, slave labor, and prostitution, and especially for those forced to fight, to kill and torture even members of their own family. We pray for the victims of violence and war, for those wounded in body and for those wounded in mind. We pray for the multitudes of refugees, forced from their homes to alien places through war or through the utter destruction of their environment. We pray for suffering animals everywhere, for an end to the pain caused by scientific experimentation, intensive farming, fur farming, shooting, trapping, training for entertainment, abusive pet owners, and all other forms of exploitation such as overloading and overworking pack animals, bull fighting, badger baiting, dog and cock fighting and so many more. We pray for an end to cruelty, whether to humans or other animals, for an end to bullying, and torture in all its forms. We pray that we may learn the peace that comes with forgiving and the strength we gain in loving; that we may learn to take nothing for granted in this life; that we may learn to see and understand with our hearts; that we may learn to rejoice in our being. We pray for these things with humility; We pray because of the hope that is within us, and because of a faith in the ultimate triumph of the human spirit; We pray because of our love for Creation, and because of our trust in God. We pray, above all, for peace throughout the world. I love this beautiful and magnanimous prayer. Each request is spelled out clearly and specifically, and it asks that love, peace, and kindness be shown to all of earth’s creatures, not just its human occupants.

FREE COFFEE Get to know every single barista/o in your local coffee shop. That’s Emma, Jason, Helen, Anjara, Brooklyn, and Jeremy! And because there’s high turnover, now it’s Angela, Jeremiah, Lupe, Jason, and Carmela! Oops—now Amber, Kat, Jonny, and Jason! Learn the names of their pets. Ask about their cat, Stanley. Like and repost their self-made music videos of ballet dancing while high. Give them your address and the code to get into your house to use the pool. After two to seven months of this, forget to pay. That’s twelve ounces of your favorite coffee beverage gratis! Become CONSUMED WITH GUILT. You just STOLE five-dollars-plus out of the pocket of a small, family-owned business in your own neighborhood! Anja, the owner, will find out and you will be BANNED. Within twenty-four hours, send ten dollars via Venmo to Anja. REPEAT THIS PROCESS FOR DECADES. 2. Diagnos-YES! Why I need so badly to belong somewhere: because there’s something really wrong with me!

We have snacks, everybody!” “Where’d you get them from, Delaware?” Ben asked. He was glaring behind me, where Sage leaned casually against the wall. “Practically,” I said. “My fault-I was dying for Red Hots. Pretty much impossible to find. So what movie are we watching?” Back in the cave, Sage had told me I wasn’t much of an actress, and apparently he was right. I thought I put on a brilliant show, but Ben’s eyes were filled with suspicion, Rayna looked like she was ready to pounce, and Sage seemed to be working very hard to stifle his laughter. Rayna yawned. “Can’t do it. I’m so tired. I’m sorry, but I have to kick you guys out and get some sleep.” She wasn’t much better at acting than I was. I knew she wanted to talk, but the idea of being away from Sage killed me. “No worries,” I said. “I can bring he snacks to the guys’ room. We can watch there and let you sleep.” “Great!” Ben said. Rayna gaped, and in the space of ten seconds, she and I had a full conversation with only our eyes. Rayna: “What the hell?” Me: “I know! But I want to hang out with Sage.” Rayna: “Are you insane?! You’ll be with him for the rest of your life. I’m only with you until morning!” I couldn’t fight that one. She was right. “Actually, I’m pretty tired too,” I said. I even forced a yawn, though judging from Sage’s smirk, it wasn’t terribly convincing. “You sure?” Ben asked. He was staring at me in a way that made me feel X-rayed. “Positive. Take some snacks, though. I got dark chocolate M&Ms and Fritos.” “Sounds like a slumber party!” Rayna said. “Absolutely,” Sage deadpanned. “Look out, Ben-I do a mean French braid.” Ben paid no attention. He had moved closer and was looking at me suspiciously, like a dog whose owner comes from after playing with someone else’s pet. I almost thought he was going to smell me. “G’night,” he said. He had to brush past Sage to get to the door, but he didn’t say a word to him. Sage raised an amused eyebrow to me. “Good night, ladies,” he said, then turned and followed Ben out. It hurt to see him go, like someone had run an ice cream scoop through my core, but I knew that was melodramatic. I’d see him in the morning. We had our whole lives to be together. Tonight he could spend with Ben. I laughed out loud, imagining the two of them actually cheating, snacking, and French braiding each other’s hair as they sat cross-legged on the bed. Then a pillow smacked me in the side of the head. “’We can watch there and let you sleep’?” Rayna wailed. “Are you crazy?” “I know! I’m sorry. I took it back, though, right?” “You have two seconds to start talking, or I reload.” Before now, if anyone had told me that I could have a night like tonight and not want to tell Rayna everything, I’d have thought they were crazy. But being with Sage was different. It felt perfectly round and complete. If I said anything about it, I felt like I’d be giving away a giant scoop of it that I couldn’t ever get back. “It was really nice,” I said. “Thanks.” Rayna picked up another pillow, then let it drop. She wasn’t happy, but she understood. She also knew I wasn’t thanking her just for asking, but for everything. “Ready for bed?” she asked. “We have to eat the guys to breakfast so they don’t steal all the cinnamon rolls.” I loved her like crazy.

The small family living unit lacks space, earth, other animals, seasons, natural temperatures, and so on. The pet is either sterilised or sexually isolated, extremely limited in its exercise, deprived of almost all other animal contact, and fed with artificial foods. This is the material process which lies behind the truism that pets come to resemble their masters or mistresses. They are creatures of their owner’s way of life. Equally important is the way the average owner regards his pet. (Children are, briefly, somewhat different.) The pet completes him, offering responses to aspects of his character which would otherwise remain unconfirmed. He can be to his pet what he is not to anybody or anything else. Furthermore, the pet can be conditioned to react as though it, too, recognises this. The pet offers its owner a mirror to a part that is otherwise never reflected. But, since in this relationship the autonomy of both parties has been lost (the owner has become the-special-man-he-is-only-to-his-pet, and the animal has become dependent on its owner for every physical need), the parallelism of their separate lives has been destroyed.

As they spoke, 290 Argos, the dog that lay there, raised his head and ears. Odysseus had trained this dog but with no benefit—he left too soon to march on holy Troy. The master gone, boys took the puppy out to hunt wild goats and deer and hares. But now he lay neglected, without an owner, in a pile of dung from mules and cows—the slaves stored heaps of it outside the door, until they fertilized the large estate. So Argos lay there dirty,300 covered with fleas. And when he realized Odysseus was near, he wagged his tail, and both his ears dropped back. He was too weak to move towards his master. At a distance, Odysseus had noticed, and he wiped his tears away and hid them easily, and said, “Eumaeus, it is strange this dog is lying in the dung; he looks quite handsome, though it is hard to tell if he can run, or if he is a pet, a table dog,310 kept just for looks.” Eumaeus, you replied, “This dog belonged to someone who has died in foreign lands. If he were in good health, as when Odysseus abandoned him and went to Troy, you soon would see how quick and brave he used to be. He went to hunt in woodland, and he always caught his prey. His nose was marvelous. But now he is in bad condition, with his master gone, long dead. The women fail to care for him.320 Slaves do not want to do their proper work, when masters are not watching them. Zeus halves our value on the day that makes us slaves.” With that, the swineherd went inside the palace, to join the noble suitors. Twenty years had passed since Argos saw Odysseus, and now he saw him for the final time— then suddenly, black death took hold of him.

Ways to train puppies or pet dogs efficiently? Individuals have to choose the qualified puppy shop in order to get large collection of puppy devices. Various categories of canines for sale in Miami and animal owners can make use of that chance to get high quality young puppies. Focus and concentration of the pet dogs can get enhanced when they train their puppies in a qualified training company. Consumer young puppies will certainly well-adjust with other one only when they get training from certified canine fitness instructor. Responsible and social characters will certainly get established when these puppies attend training in their young duration. If they desire to know dogs for sale in Miami, they have to refer a number of online puppy shops offered on the web. Though they get the puppies in miami from the best dogs for sale in Miami, they need to comprehend the feeding options. Medical therapy and feeding practices plays an essential role in growing puppies in a healthy manner. Getting puppies from online store is a better way for the user because they can avoid the confusing tasks. One can analyze the pros and cons of different kinds of puppies in a steady manner using the internet facility. People have to find the website that offer dogs and dog accessories at reasonable that will certainly convenience their consumer. Handling, socialization and training is essential for dogs in order to improve the capabilities of dogs. Puppies will get easily attached to the relative when it gets correct and efficient training. Number of effective suggestions and suggestions are offered on the web to grow the puppies or dogs without getting impacted from illness. One should get at least small history of the puppies from the stores to know the breeding capability of canines. Husky and poodle young puppies have vast understanding, and it will quickly comprehend the things by offering appropriate training.

In the past, when dogs’ functions were mostly rural, it was accepted that they were intrinsically messy and needed to be managed on their own terms. Today, by contrast, many pet dogs live in circumscribed, urban environments and are expected to be simultaneously better behaved than the average human child and as self-reliant as adults. As if these new obligations were not enough, many dogs still manifest the adaptations that suited them for their original functions—traits that we now demand they cast away as if they had never existed. The collie who herds sheep is the shepherd’s best friend; the pet collie who tries to herd children and chases bicycles is an owner’s nightmare. The new, unrealistic standards to which many humans hold their dogs have arisen from one of several fundamental misconceptions about what dogs are and what they have been designed to do.

pet owners have higher self-esteem, fewer feelings of loneliness, and are more physically fit and socially outgoing than people without pets.

Don’t know.” Milo crumpled the schedule and tossed it in the trash. Then he bent down to pet a passing poodle that promptly bared his pointy white teeth and growled. “Sorry,” said the owner—a hipster in skinny jeans with a tattoo of a dragon on his neck and a bowler hat on his head. “He’s kind of a jerk sometimes. Don’t take it personally.” “I won’t,” Milo replied, standing up straight again. The jerky poodle reminded me of something, but I couldn’t remember what. Oh, wait—that’s it. Dog walking! “I’ve got to walk Nofarm this afternoon!” I said. “But it’s Saturday,” said Milo. “Don’t you take weekends off?” “Usually, but Nofarm’s family just moved, so they asked me for this special favor.

One thing led to another, and, notwithstanding some moments in history that dogs and cats would probably not want to bring up (like the time Pope Gregory IX declared cats to be the Devil incarnate), pets have gradually become cherished members of our families. According to “Citizen Canine,” a book by David Grimm, sixty-seven per cent of households in America have a cat or a dog (compared with forty-three per cent who have children), and eighty-three per cent of pet owners refer to themselves as their animal’s “mom” or “dad.” Seventy per cent celebrate the pet’s birthday. Animals are our best friends, our children, and our therapists.

FEW YEARS AGO the city council of Monza, Italy, barred pet owners from keeping goldfish in curved goldfish bowls. The measure’s sponsor explained the measure in part by saying that it is cruel to keep a fish in a bowl with curved sides because, gazing out, the fish would have a distorted view of reality. But how do we know we have the true, undistorted picture of reality? Might not we ourselves also be inside some big goldfish bowl and have our vision distorted by an enormous lens? The goldfish’s picture of reality is different from ours, but can we be sure it is less real?

own. Save a parrot’s tree. Save ten. Without our help, without needed legislative protection and worldwide consciousness-raising on their behalf, parrots will be lost in short years to come. It is fitting to end this book with this succinct summation from Wayne Pacelle, president of the Humane Society of the United States:   We are at an odd moment in history. There are more people in this country sensitized to animal protection issues than ever before. The Humane Society of the United States alone has 8 million members, and in addition, there are more than 5,000 other groups devoted to animal protection. At the same time, there are more animals being harmed than ever before—in industrial agriculture, research and testing, and the trade in wild animals. It is pitiful that our society still condones keeping millions of parrots and other wild birds as pets—wild animals that should be free to fly and instead are languishing in cages, with more being bred every day. It’s an issue of supply and demand and it’s also an issue of right and wrong. Animals suffer in confinement, and we have a moral obligation to spare them from needless suffering. Every person can make a difference every day for animals by making compassionate choices in the marketplace: don’t buy wild animals as pets, whether they are caught from the wild or bred in captivity. If we spare the life of just one animal, it’s a 100% positive impact for that creature. If we can solve the larger bird trade problem, it will be 100% positive for all parrots and other wild birds in the U.S. and beyond our borders. I believe we will look back in 50 -75 years and say “How could we as a society countenance things like the decades long imprisonment of extraordinarily intelligent animals like parrots?” Acknowledgments For this work, which took more than two and a half years to research and write, I amassed thousands of documents and conducted several hundred interviews with leading scientists, environmentalists, paleontologists, ecological economists, conservationists, global warming experts, federal law enforcement officers, animal control officers, avian researchers, avian rescuers, veterinarians, breeders, pet bird owners, bird clubs, pet bird industry executives and employees, sanctuaries and welfare organizations, legislators, and officials with the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora (CITES), and other sources in the United States and around the world.

Essentially you can put pet owners into one of four categories—excellent, good, fair, and bad or abusive. The excellent pet owner absolutely adores and loves his pets and will do anything for them. This pet owner has made an absolute bond with his or her pets that many times supersedes even human relationships, and these types of owners can treat their pets like human beings. This category of pet owner generally considers his pets to be part of his family, and because they are animal lovers they usually have more than one pet. They also tend to spend more money on their pets and on health care for their pets. The good pet owner is probably the category under which most pet owners fall. The good owners treat their pets kindly and give them varying amounts of attention and love and may or may not consider them to be part of the family. This category of pet owner also includes the majority of families that have children. Typically because the family does have children, pets may not get the attention and devotion that the excellent pet owner gives, simply because there is not as much to go around after the children get their rightful share. The fair pet owner is generally one that doesn’t necessarily give a lot of attention or love to their pets, but does make sure that they are properly fed and basically taken care of. You will find this owner many times to be one who has animals as service or working animals as well as pets. Their pets may work for their room and board, so to speak. You will also find that this owner has too many things going on in his life to give much time or attention to his pet, and usually his pet is not an indoor pet. These pet owners may like animals but aren’t necessarily big animal lovers. This type of owner also will give his pet away or give him to the pound if the pet becomes too much of an inconvenience in his life. Generally speaking, this type of owner should not have pets because he doesn’t give them the love and attention that they should have, and the only thing that saves him from being a bad owner is that he does feed and care for them minimally well. The bad pet owner is just that—not only a bad owner but a bad human being. These pet owners give their pets practically no attention or love and, in fact, many times will beat and abuse them unmercifully. This type of owner will also translate that abuse into their own lives and many times will be involved in alcohol or drug abuse, unlawful activities, and perhaps into child and spousal abuse. This is the owner that will starve or neglect his animals or even train them to fight for pleasure or profit. Sharing

I've broken an arm before, but no one wanted to shoot me!' Suzie says. 'I mean, when you go to the emergency room I hope to God the doctors don't decide it might cost too much to care for.' -Suzie Schwab co-owner of East Maui Animal Refuge

to inform pet owners of possible systemic dynamics in relationship to pets-both within the pet community, the pets personal history, and the interface with pet and human families Experience insight regarding Nature’s perspective- may be used as a tool for youth and adults alike in exploring the consciousness and perspective of a tree, the water, the land Placing the land of origin and the land of immigration may be of help to immigrant populations To serve as a support or resource to individuals and family systems For exploration regarding questions and challenges we face in our environment and relationship to the earth To expand our connection to the environment and each other

I hate this whole damn place. I hate the fact that you have live toilet paper and that you eat dog crap and bug guts for dinner and drink woo that looks like blue Kool-aid and tastes like somebody lit a blowtorch in your mouth. I hate the fact that it’s so damned cold outside I can’t get away. So I’m trapped here with your aunt and uncle, who can’t stand me, because the live clothing they gave me to wear made a fool of me in front of their entire community. And now I’m stuck with a pet I don’t want for…how long do they live?” Sylvan cleared his throat. “The average tharp can live as long as its owner.” “For life.” Sophia threw up her hands. “I’m stuck with a horrible, badly behaved pet I don’t want for the rest of my life! I hate it, Sylvan. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. And I just…just want to go home.” The last word ended on a sob and she buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with the force of her tears. “Talana…” Sylvan put a hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off. “Just go away and leave me alone,” she whispered brokenly. “Go back to Feenah—that’s where you want to be.” “That isn’t true,” Sylvan said in a low voice. “Of

I hate this whole damn place. I hate the fact that you have live toilet paper and that you eat dog crap and bug guts for dinner and drink woo that looks like blue Kool-aid and tastes like somebody lit a blowtorch in your mouth. I hate the fact that it’s so damned cold outside I can’t get away. So I’m trapped here with your aunt and uncle, who can’t stand me, because the live clothing they gave me to wear made a fool of me in front of their entire community. And now I’m stuck with a pet I don’t want for…how long do they live?” Sylvan cleared his throat. “The average tharp can live as long as its owner.” “For life.” Sophia threw up her hands. “I’m stuck with a horrible, badly behaved pet I don’t want for the rest of my life! I hate it, Sylvan. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. And I just…just want to go home.” The last word ended on a sob and she buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with the force of her tears. “Talana…” Sylvan put a hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off. “Just go away and leave me alone,” she whispered brokenly. “Go back to Feenah—that’s where you want to be.” “That isn’t true,” Sylvan said in a low voice. “Of course it is.” She looked up, her eyes red from crying. “I saw the way you two were looking at each other. Not that I can say anything, I know. But still…still…” “Still what?” Sylvan’s heart gave a strange little thump. Could it be that she was jealous? That she cared for him after all? Enough that he didn’t want him to see Feenah? But Sophia only shook her head. “Never mind. Just…go. Leave the tharp and go.” Sylvan wanted badly to stay and comfort her. To cuddle her in his arms and whisper that everything would be all right. But from the look on her tearstained face his comfort wasn’t wanted right now. In fact, he was fairly sure that Sophia wouldn’t want anything to do with him or any of the rest of Tranq Prime for some time to come. “Very well, Talana. Maybe we can speak later.” Sighing, he dropped the tharp at the foot of her sleeping platform and left the room. What

It wouldn’t be long before I’d learn another lesson that was a real turning point. I saw a dog scrounging around in the school parking lot, a dirty and scrawny mutt that had evidently been on his own for a while. Some of the kids and I shared a bit of food with the dog at recess. By the time classes were starting again we had befriended the poor thing. I suddenly felt an unusual responsibility toward the stray. I didn’t feel it was enough just to give it something to eat and say that I’d helped it, and then move on. I needed to make sure that dog was in a safe place. “We’ve got to do something to help,” I said to my teacher. “The school’s already called animal control,” my teacher explained. She assured me that if the owners were looking for the stray, they would have the best chance of finding it through animal control. I was stubborn. “But after a period of time, if the dog isn’t claimed, they’ll put it to sleep, right?” My teacher nodded reluctantly. “I suppose.” “So that’s not good enough.” My teacher sighed, giving me an I-haven’t-got-time-for-this look. “There aren’t really any other options, Terri.” And that was that. What happened to the stray dog, I’ll never know. But with the fierce determination of a child to right injustice, I resolved that when I grew up, I would no longer turn a blind eye and walk past a problem. I would stop and fix it. I remember that episode very clearly as a defining moment in my life. Neither the stray dog nor the ducklings were huge events, just minor incidents in the life of a young girl growing up in the Pacific Northwest. But they formed two vital threads in the fabric of who I am today: When you help an animal, do your absolute best to make sure you don’t harm it at the same time, and Never walk past a problem with an animal--fix it. These were the lessons I remembered when I encountered a sick, emaciated cougar in a plastic pet cage.

If she has her way ... Willa Davis is wrangling puppies when Keane Winters stalks into her pet shop with frustration in his chocolate-brown eyes and a pink bedazzled cat carrier in his hand. He needs a kitty sitter, stat. But the last thing Willa needs is to rescue a guy who doesn’t even remember her ... He’ll get nothing but coal in his stocking. Saddled with his great-aunt’s Feline from Hell, Keane is desperate to leave her in someone else’s capable hands. But in spite of the fact that he’s sure he’s never seen the drop-dead-gorgeous pet shop owner before, she seems to be mad at him ... Unless he tempers “naughty” with a special kind of nice ... Willa can’t deny that Keane’s changed since high school: he’s less arrogant, for one thing—but can she trust him not to break her heart again? It’s time to throw a coin in the fountain, make a Christmas wish—and let the mistletoe do its work ...

The Dog Killer in Your Pocket Here’s another danger that might surprise you Just as dog owners often don’t realize their canine friends are too heavy, they may have a blind spot about another threat. Surprisingly, the lowly penny can become a lethal weapon against dogs—specifically pennies minted after 1982. Although all pennies are equal in value—one cent, no matter what year it is—their compositions are not. Pennies that were produced between 1962 and 1982 are predominantly copper (95 percent), whereas pennies churned out in 1982 and after are mostly zinc (97.5 percent). Zinc is an essential mineral but is undesirable in excessive amounts. When pennies meet the acid in a dog’s stomach, the zinc gets released rapidly, which can destroy red blood cells and, in turn, lead to a number of debilitating conditions, including kidney or liver damage.

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Goldfish Memory For decades people believed that the goldfish memory lasts only for 3 seconds. But over the years, this belief has been debunked multiple times with experiments and research. Goldfish are one of the most popular pet fish, and if you are a proud owner of a goldfish, you would be happy to know that your fish remembers you. Disproving the 3 seconds memory myth Studies show that your goldfish memory spans more than three months. In one of the studies, the scientists added a lever to the goldfish tank that dispensed food when pressed. The goldfish in the tank quickly learned to press the lever to get food. The goldfish started to come to the lever whenever they were hungry. Later the scientist changed the process and adjusted the lever to dispense food only at a particular time within a one-hour window. Soon the goldfish learned to return to the lever each day around that time when the lever dispensed food. This experiment proves that goldfish do have memories that span more than 3 seconds. In another study, the scientists used music to train the goldfish. Whenever they brought food for the goldfish, a particular piece of music would be playing. The goldfish learned to associate this music with food. Later, the scientists released the goldfish into the wild. After about five months, they played the same piece of music, and the goldfish returned to the same feeding place. The results of the above experiments would have been different if the goldfish has a 3-second memory. Are goldfish smart? The answer is yes they are! Besides having better than a 3-second memory, goldfish are also quite intelligent in their own right. They have shown an incredible ability to learn and process information. In many cases, your pet goldfish have been found to remember their owners' sound and to distinguish the one who feeds them. They are usually scared when they meet new people, and it is only after repeatedly seeing the person that they no longer fear them. There have also been instances where goldfish do complex activities like swimming through a maze or push a ball into a net. This proves that the goldfish have better memory and can perform far more complex tasks than we give them credit. Goldfish evolving over millions of years Scientists believe that the entire fish category has evolved over hundreds of years and have learned to remember where and how they can find food, what predators look like, how to stay safe, and basic survival instincts. Conclusion From all the research and studies that have been conducted, it is easy to deduce that when you keep your goldfish in a bowl with the same accessories for years, it will not provide a scintillating environment for the fish to thrive. The goldfish may not be the smartest species in the animal kingdom, but they do have a memory that is more than just 3 seconds. Hence, it is only fair that if you bring home a goldfish as a pet, give it the environment it needs to enjoy a healthy and stimulating life.

Dogs have a way of finding the people who need them, Filling an emptiness we don't even know we have.

Are dogs the most mistreated, tortured animals on earth? Not by animal experimenters … but by dog “lovers”. Are the dogs’ owners monsters? Haven’t dogs simply been bred to become “living dolls” for human beings? Can you imagine a less natural animal than a dog? It used to be a wolf. Not anymore. It has been removed from nature. What natural function does it have or serve? None at all. What’s the point of a dog? It’s there purely to be company and entertainment for emotionally crippled human beings devoid of the capacity to think.

the owners of PetCo and Lucky Brand Jeans, Prospect Holdings, purchased the longtime community hospital shortly after the election. That’s right: suddenly decisions about patient care would be dictated by people who pored over quarterly numbers of whether sales of dry kibble versus wet food or skinny jeans versus bell-bottoms made more money, and for whom the bottom line—and not how quickly your aunt is recovering from a heart attack or cancer—is paramount.

Don't assume an NSAID for one dog is safe to give to another dog. Always consult your veterinarian before using any medication in your pet-HOW TO SAFELY KEEP YOUR DOG PAIN FREE, Author, V J SMITH, BARNES AND NOBLE NOOK BOOK

Sometimes it is not until after the animal has snapped at me that the owner will decide to mention that the dog has a history of biting. Since owners never want to believe that their dog could hurt someone, they are reluctant to have a muzzle placed on their pet. This is one of the few things that really upsets me.

Walter was next heard from in September, when he leafleted the neighborhood under cover of night. The Dent and Dolberg houses were standing empty now, their windows darkened like the call-holding lights of emergency-hotline callers who’d finally quietly hung up, but the remaining residents of Canterbridge Estates all awoke one morning to find on their doorsteps a politely worded “Dear Neighbors” letter, rehashing the anticat arguments that Walter had presented twice already, and four attached pages of photographs that were the opposite of polite. Walter had apparently spent the entire summer documenting bird deaths on his property. Each picture (there were more than forty of them) was labeled with a date and a species. The Canterbridge families who didn’t own cats were offended to have been included in the leafleting, and the families who did own them were offended by Walter’s seeming certainty that every bird death on his property was the fault of their pets. Linda Hoffbauer was additionally incensed that a leaflet had been left where one of her children could easily have been exposed to traumatizing images of headless sparrows and bloody entrails. She called the county sheriff, with whom she and her husband were social, to see whether perhaps Walter was guilty of illegal harassment. The sheriff said that Walter wasn’t, but he agreed to stop by his house and have a word of warning with him—a visit that yielded the unexpected news that Walter had a law degree and was versed not only in his First Amendment rights but also in the Canterbridge Estates homeowners covenant, which contained a clause requiring pets to be under the control of their owners at all times; the sheriff advised Linda to shred the leaflet and move on.

I could bite you and have you follow me about like a pet. I’d like to see you smile then.” “Do it.” I lifted my chin and swallowed. Stupid, stupid, stupid. My fingers curled into fists. His gaze flicked to my throat, but his mouth twisted. “You’re claimed. Your blood, should I taste it, would be unpleasant… somewhat like its owner.” He’d

he renowned America painter Francis Davis Millet sent a letter from the Titanic’s last stop before attempting to cross the cold Atlantic Ocean. In it he wrote, “Looking over the passenger list I only find 3 or 4 people I know but there are a number of obnoxious, ostentatious American women, the scourge of any place they infest, and worse on shipboard than anywhere. Many of them carry tiny dogs, and lead husbands around like pet lambs.” It seemed that Francis didn’t think much of the women and their dogs that were of the snobbish set; however, it is safe to assume that there may have been at least a dozen dogs most of who were boarded in special kennels and others that shared the staterooms with their owners. Of these only 3 made it into the lifeboats with their owners and survived. We also know that there were chickens on the ship since later there was a claim made totaling $207.87 for lost chickens by a passenger named White. Other claims were made for lost dogs including a Chow-Chow dog that was valued by Harry Anderson for $50 and a claim of $750 by a passenger Daniel for the loss of his pedigree bulldog. Passenger Carter claimed $300 for the loss of his two dogs. There were a few pet birds on the ship and yes, the ship also had a cat named Jenny who was kept aboard as a working mascot. Jenny’s job was to keep down the ship’s population of rats and mice under control. However, it can be safely assumed that all of the rodents perished although one was seen running across the Third Class Dining Room just prior to the sinking.

As any parrot owner will tell you, pet birds can give serious bites. The nut-cracking beak of the African gray parrot, for example, can sever fingers. In 1998, the Labour Party’s John Prescott, deputy prime minister of the United Kingdom, was engaged in a publicity event for environmental issues when a captive macaw, clearly a Tory, fetched him a bruising bite on the finger.

A house is never empty with a pet in situ, nor is an owner alone – a pet provides security, companionship and affection too.

Of course, not all dogs return to their owners. When they do, it is because a special bond exists between that dog and that person, a karmic bond that transcends death. Do you and your dog share this kind of special bond? Probably you do. You are reading this book because you are meant to read it.

Research indicates that people who live alone and have a pet have better overall outcomes.25 Though pets cannot fully replace the social support you get from human interaction, research indicates that pet ownership is helpful and that pets can oftentimes provide emotional support. In fact, for many pet owners, having a pet promotes social interaction and ways to reduce

The most important decision pet owners make each day regarding their pet’s health is what they choose to feed.

In the few weeks we've been in residence, Schatzi has kicked dirt in the eye of a Chihuahua, resulting in a squealing of eardrum-perforating shrillness. She nipped the fingers of a very nice young woman walking her terrier mix when she tried to pet her. She growled at a Yorkie so menacingly the dog had immediate violently explosive diarrhea. All over my leg. It was like some invisible hand just squeezed her in the middle and hot liquid poop shot out of her with such velocity that despite being only like eight inches tall, she hit me from ankle to over the knee. I'm still grateful she wasn't a bigger dog. Schatzi was never mean to other dogs, or owners for that matter, when we were in the West Loop. She had her neighborhood pals, Otto the black Lab, who always tried to give her gifts of mangy tennis balls, Lucy, the sweet old arthritic collie who would nuzzle Schatzi like a doting grandmother, and her best buddy, Klaus, a giant schnauzer, the perfect replica of Schatzi herself, just supersized. They would romp around and then put their square bearded heads together and have what appeared to be very serious conversations about things. Jimmy, Klaus's dad, would always lean over and ask, "Do you think they're planning to invade Poland?" which never failed to make me laugh.

The idea has been around for a while. Artificial-life hobbyists all agree on the impossibility of digients ever getting legal protection as a class, citing dogs as an example: human compassion for dogs is both deep and wide, but the euthanasia of dogs in pet shelters amounts to an ongoing canine holocaust, and if the courts haven’t put a stop to that, they certainly aren’t going to grant protection to entities that lack a heartbeat. Given this, some owners believe the most they can hope for is legal protection on an individual basis: by filing articles of incorporation on a specific digient, an owner can take advantage of a substantial body of case law that establishes rights for nonhuman entities. Hecht is the first one to have actually done it.

In America where the people have dogs as pets, and houses with front yards, sometimes the owners decide that they do not like the look of a fence around their front lawn.

An educated, informed and well-researched community of pet owners can only put more pressure on the pet food industry to be better! When pet owners know better, they will only do better!

One of the reasons people and animals share such a close relationship is that people have always learned important lessons from animals: what to eat, and what not to eat; when it is safe, or when there is danger about. Have you ever walked in a park or forest where there were no birds singing and no small animals to be seen? It's unsettling, isn't it? Where have the birds gone? And why did they leave? Often, animals can warn us of trouble before we are able to detect it for ourselves. Many people have been saved from fires by their pets, who, sensing the danger early, woke their owners and allowed them to get to safety. By carefully watching animals and their behavior, people can learn, and have learned, a great deal about their environment.

Einstein wrote the following riddle. He stated that 98% of the world could not solve it. This may not have been a riddle that was supposed to indicate intelligence, because others have implied that it just requires attention and patience: There are five houses in five different colors in a row. In each house lives a person with a different nationality. The five owners drink a certain type of beverage, smoke a certain brand of cigar, and keep a certain pet. No owners have the same pet, smoke the same brand of cigar, or drink the same beverage. Other facts: 1. The Brit lives in the red house. 2. The Swede keeps dogs as pets. 3. The Dane drinks tea. 4. The green house is on the immediate left of the white house. 5. The green house's owner drinks coffee. 6. The owner who smokes Pall Mall rears birds. 7. The owner of the yellow house smokes Dunhill. 8. The owner living in the center house drinks milk. 9. The Norwegian lives in the first house. 10. The owner who smokes Blends lives next to the one who keeps cats. 11. The owner who keeps the horse lives next to the one who smokes Dunhill. 12. The owner who smokes Bluemasters drinks beer. 13. The German smokes Prince. 14. The Norwegian lives next to the blue house. 15. The owner who smokes Blends lives next to the one who drinks water. The question is: WHO OWNS THE FISH? Skip ahead for the answer.

Raising wolf puppies in the home is a hellish job, though, since they are exceptionally energetic and less rule-bound than dog puppies, chewing up everything in sight. When dedicated scientists raised wolves this way, the nurture hypothesis came out the winner. Human-raised wolves followed hand points as well as dogs. A few differences persisted, though, such as that wolves looked less at human faces than dogs and were more self-reliant. When dogs tackle a problem they cannot solve, they look back at their human companion to get encouragement or assistance—something that wolves never do. Wolves keep trying and trying on their own. Domestication may be responsible for this particular difference. Instead of intelligence, though, it seems more a question of temperament and relations with us—those weird bipedal apes that the wolf evolved to fear and the dog was bred to please. Dogs, for example, engage in lots of eye contact with us. They have hijacked the human parental pathways in the brain, making us care about them in almost the same way that we care about our children. Dog owners who stare into their pet’s eyes experience a rapid increase in oxytocin—a neuropeptide involved in attachment and bonding. Exchanging gazes full of empathy and trust, we enjoy a special relationship with the dog.

Have you ever heard the adage that dogs resemble their owners? Another interesting study conducted in 2009 by Sadahiko Nakajima, a psychologist at Japan’s Kwansei Gakuin University whose research on dog-owner resemblance has gained notoriety, found that people do indeed resemble their dogs. At a rate significantly higher than chance, people were able to match dog owners with their dogs. In a set of experiments that involved masking various parts of the dogs’ heads and their owners’ faces, Nakajima also discovered that more than 500 participants were able to correctly identify the pet-human connection to a specific facial feature: the eyes of both the dog and its owner.

At that price point, open houses evaporate and the MLS listings often go away, too. Wealthy sellers don’t want commoners sniffing around their properties, and well-heeled buyers demand a realtor’s full attention. Showings are by appointment only, “otherwise it’s a petting zoo,” says Frank Nolan, co-owner of San Francisco’s Vanguard Properties, who does $150 million to $170 million in annual sales. Would-be buyers are often asked to show their money in advance, “because a lot of people would love to see a house like that just to see a house like that.

The incidental camouflage provided by his ashen coat against the tile flooring ‒ likewise denoted as being a series of twelve inch gray slate squares by all of them again ‒ save for Nate’s mother ‒ in concert with his current focus on the mixer and its hypnotic, simultaneous whir; which drew his visual attention to the blue pearl granite countertop directly in front of him and induced his total disregard for the feline's entrance. He therefore failed to observe that it was marked by an inordinately determined gait ‒ itself relatively less peculiar than the paradoxical lack of conviction in his clenched jaws, out of which a visibly dispirited common brown rat was loosely dangling by the nape of its neck. Upon shutting off the mixer and sensing a presence, Nate glanced intuitively downward ‒ just as Zero had raised his head sharply and looked up with eager, widened eyes ‒ then becoming struck by a sense that it appeared in the moment as if the incongruous mouser had been instead transporting an itsy-bitsy newborn kitten. Then in the next, he casually dropped the rodent at his owner's feet. Being sufficiently emboldened by its youthful size and appearance to first crouch and then kneel to the floor for a closer look, Nate endeavored to roust the lethargic rodent with a toothpick. He was taken aback to discover a set of tiny ‒ though notably bulging ‒ coal black eyes returning his gaze. Their vacant helplessness inspired him toward an appreciably more sober contemplation of its plight than he’d undertaken upon witnessing Zero capture and kill a field mouse behind his apple tree the previous spring. An instance whereby he had caught but a fleeting glimpse of its limp body as his typically passive, then suddenly feral tomcat clamped down on its entire neck just prior to seeking a more private spot in which to consume his prey. Nate realized that if he'd intended to eat this latest catch, his since neutered pet would have remained outside and carried it in a similar manner; so being the softhearted sort, while possessing a firm understanding that upon his mother's imminent arrival in a chic skirt with matching heels, the tragic scene of a dying and worse yet ‒ possibly bleeding ‒ brown Norway rat on her Montauk Blue tile flooring would be ill-received, he suffered the burden of understanding that this rodent's fate might be in his hands.

They behaved like the pets that lost their owner. They seemed to be in a never ending whirl of chaos.

I have decided to direct the remainder of my remarks to the pets themselves in the hope that they might at least learn to disport themselves with dignity and grace. If you are a dog and your owner suggests that you wear a sweater … suggest that he wear a tail.